Birdwatcher
by J. K. Baduini
Summary: A stranger in the woods behind Calvin’s house could be a poacher after Hobbes! When they attempt to apprehend the villain, though, they realize they may have misinterpreted the situation… Final chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Birdwatcher  
**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A stranger in the woods behind Calvin's house could be a poacher after Hobbes! When they attempt to apprehend the villain, though, they realize they may have misinterpreted the situation…

**Disclaimer:** All of the characters from the original _Calvin and Hobbes_ strip are the creations of Bill Watterson, and are used with the utmost respect (if not permission). This was written for fun, not profit.

**Author's Notes:** This is my first _C&H_ fic. Calvin's a little older in this than in the strip, but he hasn't changed much, don't worry! Enjoy.

* * *

It was a glorious morning. The sun was out and the skies were blue, and if it was a little cloudy out, they were the huge, benign cottony kind. There was a brisk wind blowing, cool enough to make a cautious person consider a jacket, but it was only a matter of time before the day heated to proper summertime temperatures. 

In a quiet neighborhood bordering a spacious track of beautiful forest, a screen door banged open, shattering the morning stillness. A woman's cries, irritated and loud, could be heard, chasing a boy and a tiger out of the house and into the morning. The boy was tall for his nine years, with spiky blond hair and slender limbs already tanned by the summer sun. The tiger was taller, though not by much, not anymore, and far more graceful in his sudden ejection from his house.

"And don't come back until lunch!" the woman yelled, chucking a handful of granola bars out after the boy and what she thought was a stuffed tiger.

Laughing wickedly, the boy gathered the snacks and stuffed them in his pockets. With these, he'd probably be able to stay out until half-way to dinner (as long as Hobbes didn't hog them all). He'd gotten the sense that his mother probably wouldn't mind if he was gone that long.

"Did you have to start so early, Calvin?" Hobbes asked him, torn between irritation of his own and amusement. "We barely got to finish breakfast!"

"Barely, but we did, so stop complaining," Calvin said, completely unrepentant. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?"

"…Who cares?"

* * *

They didn't have a specific destination in mind, so Calvin and Hobbes went into the woods. They walked—their wagon was new, a barely used Christmas present, and Mom and Dad had implied that dire consequences would result if it got banged up too quickly—and if they didn't know what they wanted to do yet, they knew the forest would inspire them. 

They picked a direction arbitrarily set off, and it wasn't long before they were so absorbed in picking their way through that they didn't feel the need to consciously find something to occupy them.

"Hey Hobbes," Calvin called, bending to pick up a pinecone from beneath a half-rotted log. "Think fast!" He pulled back and tossed it. It sailed wide, but the audacity of throwing something—anything—at _Hobbes_ was enough to have the tiger after him. The chase ended in a tackle and a wrestling match that didn't break apart until they tumbled into a tiny creek.

"Aw, look what you've gone and done, you stripey fleabag," Calvin groused, extracting himself from the water and vainly trying to brush the mud from his clothes. Hobbes had taken the brunt of it, and rose from the stream bed, covered in sticky goo.

"What I've done?!" he exclaimed. "This is all your fault!"

"_My_ fault?!" Calvin was affronted. "You're the one who rolled us into the water!"

"Hmph! Only because you maliciously assaulted me! I was fighting for my life!"

"Your life?! It was a _pinecone_!" Calvin flicked the mud off his fingers and stomped out of the stream. "It's not my fault years of living in the comfort of civilization have dulled your predator's reflexes!"

"What? Well I never!" Hobbes drew himself up indignantly, but there was a _look_ in his eye, and Calvin could tell he wasn't really mad. Neither was he, for that matter, but the fighting gave them something incredibly entertaining to do.

"Think fast!" Calvin shouted once again, gleefully. This time it was a granola bar that went spinning towards the tiger. His aim was better, but Hobbes caught it.

"See? Sharp as I've ever been!" Hobbes shook the water out of his whiskers and brandished the granola. "I should make you pay for that insult!"

"Make _me_ pay," Calvin warned, "and Mom and Dad will probably throw you out of the house!"

"_Hah!_ They'll reward me!" Hobbes shook the last of the water free and walked over to Calvin, poking the boy in the chest. "I'll be up to my neck in the salmon of heroes!"

"'The salmon of heroes'?" Calvin repeated incredulously. "You dope."

"You just don't want to believe the true depth of your parents' loathing for you," Hobbes said, turning up his nose with a disdainful sniff and beginning to open the granola bar. He took a bite and looked contemplative.

"Come on," Calvin said, taking a few idle steps away, "let's go find somewhere sunny to dry out."

"An excellent idea."

'Somewhere sunny' turned out to be a particularly large meadow they'd only been to a few times. It was carpeted in vibrant green grass, and had a tumble of boulders that were alternately a warm spot to bask in the sun and an excellent place to hunt for snakes.

They wouldn't get a chance to do either today, because there was someone there already. Hobbes was the first person to see him, and it took Calvin a minute to make out the dark shape hunched at the foot of a tree, at an oblique angle across the field from them, after the stranger was pointed out.

"Who's that?" Calvin asked, squinting and leaning forward, trying to see. He wished he'd remembered to bring his binoculars.

"I don't know," Hobbes admitted with a shrug.

"Maybe it's a poacher," Calvin suggested brightly, "or an escaped convict!" His mind was already straying ahead, to the accolades he would receive for apprehending the dangerous criminal. (Hobbes would help, but _he_ would be the hero, of course!)

"A poacher?!" Hobbes repeated. "He could be after me!"

"You?"

"Tigers are an endangered species around here, you know."

"You're right! We have to stop him!" Calvin hissed. They retreated into the woods, out of the sight of the stranger.

"How?" Hobbes asked, even as they began to creep around the edge of the meadow in the stranger's direction.

"Easy," Calvin said. "We'll sneak up behind him and then you can bite his head off."

Hobbes grimaced, and didn't look too pleased with the idea. "Why do _I_ have to eat his head?"

"Because you're the vicious, man-eating tiger, that's why!" Calvin said, almost forgetting to keep his voice low in his exasperation. "Now come on, and keep quiet!"

"_You_ keep quiet, boulder-feet," Hobbes grumbled, but he did so silently. He certainly wasn't going to be responsible for bringing the poacher down on them. He padded behind Calvin, silent in the undergrowth, and refrained from making a sarcastic crack about all the crunching and crackling going on under Calvin's tread.

Hiding behind a tree, Calvin tried to get a look at their quarry. All he could see, though, was a backpack propped against the tree, and occasionally an elbow or the tip of a shoe as the poacher shifted positions. He was mumbling to himself.

"Can you hear what he's saying?" he asked Hobbes.

Hobbes leaned around the tree and listened, the expression on his face intent. "Not really," he said finally.

"Hmph. Some tiger _you_ are. It's amazing he's bothering to hunt you at all!" Before Hobbes could respond to the insult, though, Calvin had leaned around the tree again. "When I say go, we go."

"What are you going to do? I'm the one doing all the real work!"

"I'm going to get his backpack, of course!" Calvin exclaimed. "There might be incriminating evidence inside, elephant ivory or bald eagle feathers or a map to his secret lair of illegally acquired merchandise!"

"Oh, of course," Hobbes said, rolling his eyes. Calvin waved impatiently at him and he crouched on the ground, bracing his feet and getting ready to sprint for the poacher.

"All right, ready?" Calvin hissed.

"Ready," Hobbes hissed back.

"Ok, go!"

Hobbes took off, covering the distance between the two trees in a few seconds. He curved around and leapt, tackling the poacher into the ground.

The poacher shrieked. _Very unmanly_, Hobbes thought; least he could do was go down silently. Then the tiger realized that the poacher was not actually a man (or anything like) at all. She flailed her arms at him and snapped, "What the hell?! Getoffame!"

"Hey, you're not a poacher," Calvin said, coming around the tree. "You're just a kid like me!"

"I am not a kid," she protested. "Get your tiger off me."

Hobbes didn't need Calvin's touch on his shoulder; he was already halfway off her. While perfectly willing to defend himself against a poacher, Hobbes wasn't willing to fight a girl, especially not a real fight with one he didn't know.

She rolled over and looked around, picking up a notebook and brushing it off frantically. She glared at Calvin. "What's wrong with you, huh? You scared the hel—heck out of me!" She picked up a pair of binoculars and brandished them. "I could have broken these! Do you have any idea what my parents would do to me if I did?! And what are you doing with my backpack?!" She scrambled over to him and snatched it out of his hands.

"You're just lucky my tiger didn't kill you by accident," Calvin informed her, obviously (to Hobbes' eyes) flustered and trying to recover his poise. She shot a glance at the tiger and looked back at Calvin.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's a ferocious beast," he said. "You're lucky he realized you weren't dangerous and pulled his claws."

"Blood's so hard to get out of my fur," Hobbes said, with a sagacious expression on his face. Calvin snickered, and the girl looked confused.

"Why was he attacking me in the first place?" she asked, looking straight at Calvin, even as her hands gathered and neatened her things and began packing them away into her backpack.

"Because Calvin told me to!"

"Because he thought you were a poacher," Calvin said smugly. "It was a preemptive strike."

"Well, I'm not one," she said irritably.

"How can we know that?" Calvin demanded. "Maybe you're hiding mink skins in your backpack!"

"Oh yes, that's me, mink hunter extraordinaire." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Hobbes. "I think he'd have a better shot at poaching weasels than me."

"Ew," Hobbes muttered. "Poached weasel wouldn't taste too good, I think. Poached eggs are much better."

"And easier to prepare!" Calvin said. She looked at him funny. "What?"

She shook her head and zipped the backpack, settling the binoculars around her neck by the strap. She looked out over the meadow, and groaned. Calvin and Hobbes both followed her line of sight, in time to see a huge brown bird rise out of the grass, flapping heavily. She jammed the binoculars to her eyes and focused quickly. "A snake," she whispered.

She stood up and swung her backpack on her back. She was a head taller than Calvin and a little shorter than Hobbes, with shaggy, short auburn hair and brown eyes. "Thanks a lot," she snapped, glancing at him quickly and looking away, bringing up the binoculars again. "I've been watching her for, like, two hours, and you made me miss it. Thanks a frikkin' lot."

"Why would you spend two hours watching a bird?" Calvin asked, looking up at her. She was staring across the meadow, the binoculars moving in little jerks as she followed the hawk's flight. It wasn't until the bird disappeared from sight that she answered him.

"Because she's beautiful," she said shortly, letting the binoculars drop again. She grinned, showing a lot of teeth. "Because she's fierce. Because she's the closest I'll ever get to seeing a dromaeosaur in action." She smiled down at him and began to walk away.

Calvin exchanged a glance with Hobbes, who shrugged. "Girls are weird," Calvin muttered.

"It's their feminine mystique," Hobbes informed him, watching her stomp away. "I wonder who she is."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So that's the first chapter of Birdwatcher, which as you now know is my take on the "new girl in the neighborhood" plot. I hope I'm not too predictable, and a little bit different from all the other stories like this. 

The next chapter is already completed and should be up in about a week. All feedback is welcomed; let me know what you thought! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Birdwatcher  
**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A stranger in the woods behind Calvin's house could be a poacher after Hobbes! When they attempt to apprehend the villain, though, they realize they may have misinterpreted the situation…

**Disclaimer:** All of the characters from the original Calvin and Hobbes strip are the creations of Bill Watterson, and are used with the utmost respect (if not permission). This was written for fun, not profit.

**Author's Notes:** Chapter two, in which more about the strange girl is revealed and Hobbes gets a tuna sandwich. Enjoy!

* * *

It was an unpleasant day, humid and overcast and muggy. Summer was in full swing now; even the dark of night brought no relief from the humidity, and spring's bite was long gone from all but the most insistent of winds. Calvin's pockets were stuffed full of rocks he'd picked off the banks of a stream; Hobbes was using a particularly gnarled stick he'd found as a walking stick. They were both hot and tired, and more than ready to eat and relax inside Calvin's house.

Calvin, refusing Hobbes' directions, led them out of the woods in the wrong place. There was a backyard, but it wasn't theirs, and Calvin didn't recognize it. "Where are we?" he asked his friend.

"Not where we would be if you'd listened to me," Hobbes said, still disgruntled about being so unceremoniously ignored.

Calvin looked around. The yard was artfully dotted with trees, some of which sported feeders depending from the branches. The grass grew wild and uneven around the trunks but was neatly cut everywhere else. A number of shrubs screened a large wooden deck, which was decorated with more feeders.

There was a girl with shaggy auburn hair sitting on the deck's steps, hunched over something in her lap and surrounded by drifts of art supplies and half-crumpled snack wrappers. She was concentrating hard on whatever it was she was hunched over, and hadn't noticed them.

"It's that girl we met in the woods," Hobbes remarked.

"Such brilliant powers of observation you have," Calvin said. "Of course it is. Now let's get out of here before she sees us!"

"But she might be able to tell us how to get home," Hobbes said, and without waiting for Calvin's response, he strode across the yard towards her.

"Hobbes!" Calvin hissed. "Get back here! We don't need help from a girl!" The tiger didn't turn around. He chased after him. "_Hobbes!_"

A flurry of wings and a rustling, chirping flash of color over his head signaled the abrupt departure of a number of songbirds from the nearest feeder. Hobbes ducked, and Calvin grabbed him by the wrist. "Come on," he said urgently, "I can get us back home. We don't need help from any slimy girl!"

"You've got a real knack for this, don't you?"

Calvin looked up; the girl was staring at them. She looked irritated, but not as angry as he remembered her being at their first meeting, which seemed ages ago (but probably wasn't). "For what?" he asked.

"Keeping me from my subjects." She set the object of her attention, some notebook, aside and walked towards them. The way the skirt tied around her waist rippled in the breeze recalled to Calvin the Triniloid Warrior Queen of Kiota-6.

Spaceman Spiff moved to stand in front of his hapless cadet, regretting not for the first time being stuck with such a useless companion. The Warrior Queen regarded him down the length of her long snout as she came to tower within arm's reach. Spiff had lost his zorcher in their turbulent landing on Kiota-6; he took up the cadet's Taserizer 73 and brandished it.

"Back, Triniloid Queen!" Spiff yelled bravely.

Hobbes sighed.

The Queen fixed him with an incredulous look (or so he though; alien expressions were difficult to read at times). "You are one _weird_ little kid," she pronounced finally. "The heck are you doing in my yard?"

"I'm not a little kid," Calvin said defensively, the alien landscape of Kiota-6 dissolving away. "You can't be that much older than me!"

She snorted. "I'm fifteen," she said. "How old are you?"

"…Nine."

"As I suspected." She crossed her arms and looked at the feeder hanging over both of their heads. "Such gorgeous birds out today too."

Hobbes elbowed Calvin. "Ask her for directions home!" he whispered.

"We don't need directions home," he snapped. "I know exactly where we are!"

"Of course you do," she interrupted. "You're in my backyard. Now get out of it." Her face took on a sly expression. "Your tiger's scaring my birds away. He's not gonna eat any of them, is he?"

"Like I would eat a little songbird," Hobbes said scornfully. "Too much work for too little reward. Ostriches are more my type."

"See? There you go!" Calvin said, crossing his arms and looking up at her. She simply stared back, disbelievingly. "Hobbes said he would never eat a songbird."

"Oh." She blinked. "Well, thanks, I guess."

Hobbes poked Calvin again. "Can you ask her how to get home now? I'm starting to get hungry."

"You're always hungry," Calvin said, "and I told you, I _know_ how to get home."

Suddenly, someone's stomach growled, and it wasn't Calvin's or Hobbes'. The girl grinned and looked sheepish. "I guess it's all right you scared my birds away," she said. "It's getting to be lunchtime for me." She turned and started to walk back to her porch. After a few steps she stopped, though, and without turning around, said, "Hey, if, er…Hobbes is hungry, you guys can come in for lunch."

"Yes, please!" Hobbes said. Calvin glared at him. "What?! I _am_ hungry."

"Clearly," Calvin muttered. Where a more cautious, well-mannered boy would have been hesitant to enter a stranger's home, Calvin had no qualms. Besides, if she tried anything funny, Hobbes could just decapitate her. "Let's go," he said to Hobbes, and they hurried after her.

She paused on the steps and gathered her stuff up, sweeping colored pencils and pens into a box and balancing it on top of a stack of books. She smiled down at them and headed inside. They followed her through the sliding glass doors and into a kitchen. She dropped her things onto a handsome wood table and turned to Calvin.

"Is your mom expecting you?" she asked him, leaning back against a counter. "Should you call her and ask for permission?"

"Nah," Calvin said immediately, dismissively. "I'm all right."

"We probably should," Hobbes said. "You know how your mom gets…"

"But if I call her," Calvin retorted, "she might say no. This way, we get out of eating whatever concoction she's decided to force on us regardless."

"How about this?" she interrupted. "_I'll_ call your mom—if she talks to me, she'll probably be more likely to let you stay, _and_ you won't get in trouble."

"All right…" Calvin said.

She watched him expectantly, and when no more information was forthcoming, frowned. "I kind of need your phone number…and maybe your name, because I know Hobbes', but not yours."

"All right," Calvin said again, and told her. She grinned and picked up a phone from its wall-mounted cradle. She punched in the numbers and walked out of the kitchen.

"Ooo, cute _and_ smart," Hobbes said with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

"Don't forget, fuzz-for-brains, she's still a girl," Calvin snapped, pulling out a chair and sitting. He picked up the notebook she'd been bent so laboriously over and opened it, flicking through while he listened to her talk to his mom in the other room.

"Hi, is this Calvin's mom? ...This is Jaysa Robinson—my family just moved in on the end of the street? …Yeah, that's us! Listen, I'm calling about Calvin. I wanted to know—what? No, he's not done—no, I just wanted to ask if it was all right if he had lunch at my house!" She laughed. "I assure you, he's done nothing more harmful than scare the birds off my feeders. …No, I'm sure it's no problem; I'd be eating alone otherwise. …Sure, I can walk him home when we're done. …All right. Thank you very much, ma'am!" She came back into the room and hung up the phone. "We're good," she told him, giving him a thumbs-up.

"_What's_ your name?" he asked, watching her as she paced over to the fridge.

"…Jaysa…" she admitted after a minute. "But call me Jay, _please_."

"What kind of weird name is Jaysa?" he asked.

"My parents thought I was going to be a boy," she said, turning around to address him directly. She spoke in a rush and was blushing slightly. "They were going to name me Jason. When I came out a girl, they didn't have any good name ready, they decided to call me Jaysa. Jason—Jaysa. See?" She turned away, clearly embarrassed. "I just ask people to call me Jay. It's not as bad."

She opened the refrigerator and poked around inside. "What do you want?" she asked. "I can make pretty much any kind of sandwich, or hot dogs if you don't mind them microwaved, or…" She trailed off and opened the freezer. "Er…well, all right, there's nothing appetizing up here. So. Sandwiches or hot dogs?"

"I'll have peanut butter," Calvin said. "Hobbes?" He looked over at his friend.

"Tuna!"

"Hobbes'll have tuna."

She turned around, the refrigerator half-open, and looked at him for a minute. Her eyes flicked to Hobbes. "I hope tuna salad's okay," she said finally, "because I'm not allowed to use the grill, and I think all our tuna steaks are frozen solid as it is."

"Tuna salad's better than tuna steaks unless you know how to cook them anyway," Hobbes said amicably.

"Hobbes says you don't know how to cook tuna steaks, so the salad is fine."

"All right," she said, turning back to the fridge. "Hey, wait! Did my cooking abilities just get slighted by a…tiger?!"

Calvin laughed. "Hobbes isn't picky about anything but tuna," he declared; the tiger's willingness to sample anything at least once and his very expansive palate had saved Calvin from any number of awful meals.

Jay shook her head and muttered something under her breath. She began to go through her refrigerator again. Calvin looked around the kitchen, feeling vaguely unsettled; he realized that she was getting ready to make their lunch herself.

"Are you home alone?" he asked.

"Yep," she said casually. "Mom and Dad both work, so it's just me."

"No babysitter or anything?" he said incredulously.

"Naw, I've proven I can handle myself," she said. She was concentrating on their food, and he couldn't see her face. It didn't sound like she was lying or anything; in fact, she sounded a little embarrassed.

"All day?"

"All day."

Calvin didn't think his parents would _ever_ leave him home alone, even _after_ he turned fifteen. The sheer thought of that much freedom boggled his mind. It must be the coolest thing!

"Ooo," Hobbes said, grinning toothily at Calvin. "Cute, smart, _and_ mature!"

"Oh, stuff it, fuzz-for-brains," he muttered. Pulling the notebook closer, he made a show of looking at the contents and ignoring Hobbes. It wasn't all an act—Jay's notebook had turned out to be a sketchbook full of birds and dinosaurs, and he didn't have to entirely feign his interest.

"Do you like them?" she asked him suddenly; he was caught off-guard by the question. She'd been humming while she worked, but had been otherwise silent. He looked up; she had a butter knife in one hand and a slice of bread in the other, but was watching him earnestly.

"What?"

"The drawings," she elaborated. "The birds."

"Oh," he said, and flushed slightly, because he should have realized that. "Yeah, they're good. Can you draw anything other than birds?"

"I can draw dinosaurs," she sniffed.

"Other than that?"

It was her turn to flush, and she turned very red. "No," she admitted, her voice soft. "That's all."

Unaccountably, Calvin felt a little bit ashamed. She turned away again quickly, but not before he saw how red her face had gotten. "That's all right," he said quickly. "All Hobbes can draw is tigers."

"Hey! I can draw other felines too, I'll thank you to remember," Hobbes interjected, his tail lashing angrily.

"And other big cats," Calvin was quick to amend.

She laughed, but didn't turn around. "Well, it's good to know I'm not the only person who specializes," she said, but her voice was still soft and she didn't resume humming as she worked. Calvin grimaced.

"Way to go," Hobbes said, glaring at him. "You're going to get us thrown out before we get our sandwiches!"

"How was I supposed to know?" he hissed back.

"Know what?" she asked.

"Nothing," he muttered, and decided to keep his big mouth shut until lunch was served. She slid him his plate not long after, with an apologetic smile, and plopped Hobbes' on the table in front of him. She took her own seat across the table and picked up her ham sandwich.

"Sorry I got all weird," she said after contemplating the grain of the wood table for a minute. "Mom and Dad get on my case about my birds sometimes; it's touchy."

"That's okay," Calvin said. "My parents get on my case about everything. I know what it's like."

She giggled, and smiled at him. He suddenly felt much better

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So there it is! Not much to say here, otherwise.

Thanks so much to Mayhem Managed for reviewing; hope this answered your question!

The next chapter is already completed and should be up in about a week. All feedback is welcomed; let me know what you thought! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Birdwatcher  
**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A stranger in the woods behind Calvin's house could be a poacher after Hobbes! When they attempt to apprehend the villain, though, they realize they may have misinterpreted the situation…

**Disclaimer:** All of the characters from the original Calvin and Hobbes strip are the creations of Bill Watterson, and are used with the utmost respect (if not permission). This was written for fun, not profit.

**Author's Notes:** And here's chapter three, which is a little on the short side, and in which Susie Derkins makes an appearance (among other things). Enjoy.

* * *

"Here, see?" Jaysa pointed to an image in the book open on her lap. Calvin lowered his binoculars and took a quick look. "See those wing-bars? That's why it's that one and not this one." She stabbed her finger at the image on the page. 

"Yeah, okay, I see that," Calvin said, looking at the creature in question again. The little song bird flitted up to the feeder and alit. From across the yard, where they were sitting on the porch, it looked like nothing more than a winged speck of brown. Through the binoculars, Calvin could make out the markings and conformations that Jay seemed to be able to pick out with the naked eye.

He never would have thought that anything a girl found fun could be entertaining. He'd learned his lesson playing with Susie when he was younger—House and Doctor, all bizarre, boring games with no real adventure to them. Calvin had always assumed that everything girls did would be similarly entertaining (that is, not at all).

But every time he came over with Hobbes, whether by design or by accident, and every time they ran into Jay out in the woods, she had her guidebook and her binoculars, and she was watching the local birds obsessively. There had to be some kind of merit to something she was doing _all the time_, and when she explained to him how birds evolved from dinosaurs, well—it sold him. He'd agreed to give it a try.

Jay had been delighted, and was still excited even after they'd been doing this for nearly twenty minutes. Frankly, Calvin was kind of bored. Watching the birds was interesting enough, but he hadn't realized there was so much scrabbling in the books necessary to identify which kinds of birds were which. (He wasn't too fond of all the sitting still, either.) It was obvious that Jay had a lot of this memorized, and could rattle off lists of features and characteristics without glancing at the guide. In fact, if it weren't for that, Calvin wouldn't have been sitting here nearly this long; if a girl could do this so effortlessly, he should be able to too.

He had to show her, especially after this latest misidentification, that a boy could do anything a girl could do, and just as well.

Dropping the binoculars again, Calvin used a drink from the glass of lemonade she'd provided as an excuse to glance back at Hobbes, who was stretched out on one of the lounge chairs on the deck. The tiger had his paws closed over his chest and was dozing in the full summer sun. He looked content enough; Calvin had worried he'd be bored too. Hobbes opened his eyes, caught Calvin staring, and winked with exaggerated suggestion.

"Hmph." He turned away and lifted the binoculars again. Jay leaned forward and focused on something. She grinned and pointed out another bird to him. It didn't look any different from any of the others he'd seen so far—little and brown—but soon enough, he'd be able to tell the difference. He'd show her.

* * *

Calvin the _Deinonychus_ paced through the Cretaceous forest, a female trailing slightly behind him and off to one side. The dinosaurs were on the lookout for prey, but they weren't yet hungry enough that it was urgent they find it. 

They communicated with grunts and growls and extravagant gestures of their claw-tipped forearms, and the female let Calvin lead her through the forest. It was his territory; she was still new to it. He had known she was sniffing around and exploring, and had been willing to tolerate her, because as an older female, she was larger than he was.

Now it was time to make a decision. The female was bigger, yes, but this was Calvin's territory and he'd had a lot of practice defending it. He had no doubt of his ability to drive the female away if he wanted to. He just…needed to figure out if he wanted to or not.

They came to a stream, more than a trickle but still insubstantial. Calvin splashed across it; the female hesitated only a moment before she followed.

She was larger than he was, and older, with far more experience at being a _Deinonychus_ than he. He had no doubt that she would be able to teach him a lot, and a pack of deinonychs—even a pack of two—was always more effective than a lone hunter. She was an intelligent dinosaur, and observant. Watching her hunt had shown him that she had a unique ability for developing hunting strategies based on the strengths and weaknesses of individual prey species.

They crested a rise, and the ridge they were following fell away in a jumble of rocks. The female snorted her appreciation of the view. Calvin started down, scrambling among the rocks. She was a minute in following, but did so just as nimbly as he—more so, even, because of the longer reach her longer limbs allowed her greater agility.

The thing was, Calvin was long used to hunting alone, and the idea that another dinosaur, even a more experienced one, knew more than he did was one he didn't much like. Allowing the female to join his pack and share his territory meant that he would be admitting this to all the other dinosaurs in the area.

He knew he was due to make a decision—he'd already allowed her to run with him a couple of times, tagging along on some of his hunts. Too much longer and they'd be a pack by default. If he wanted to drive her out of his territory, he had to do it now.

He craned his long-snouted head over his shoulder and regarded her. She locked eyes with him, and he could tell she was happy. Her jaw was agape in a dinosaur smile.

_Soon,_ he assured himself. _I'll decide soon._

* * *

"Be back before dinner Calvin, and I _mean_ it this time!" 

Calvin waved half-heartedly over his shoulder, responding just enough that his mother didn't feel the need to yell after him again. He ran down the walk, and then had to wait on the sidewalk while Hobbes sauntered after. "Will you hurry up?!" he demanded, tapping a foot with exaggerated impatience.

"Will you slow down?" Hobbes countered. "It's too hot to run anywhere."

"It's not even August!" Calvin complained, throwing his arms into the air with exasperation. "You're not allowed to be hot in July!"

"Says who?" Hobbes asked.

"Say the gods of summer, that's who," Calvin muttered. "Come on." He stuck his hands in his pockets and headed towards Jay's house.

"'The gods of summer'?" Hobbes mouthed to himself. He shrugged and followed Calvin. They passed Susie Derkins' house with exaggerated care, and all but ran up the drive to the house at the end of the block. Calvin rang the doorbell five or six times in quick succession.

"Hang on!" Jay's voice called from inside. They listened to the clatter inside for a long minute—bangings, crashings, music being turned down—before the door finally opened. Jay had her short hair tied back from her forehead with a bandanna, and was white with flour up to her elbows. She smiled at him and shoved the door wide with a shoulder. "Come on in, _hombre_!"

Calvin preceded Hobbes, grinning wildly. "You making cookies?" he asked.

"Uh-huh, but they won't be done for a while." She kicked the door shut and they headed for the kitchen.

"Ooh, there's nothing better than homemade cookies," Hobbes enthused. "What kind are you making?"

"Hobbes wants to know what kind you're making," Calvin relayed, when she showed no sign of answering.

"Well, chocolate chip, mostly, but we don't know for sure yet," she said.

"How can you make _mostly_ chocolate chip cookies?" Hobbes wondered.

"Wait, wait," Calvin said. "'We'?!"

"Hello, Calvin," Susie said primly from Jay's kitchen. She was leaning over the table with the aid of a stool. "Don't think you're going to get any of _my_ cookies!"

"Hey!"

"He can have some of mine," Jay said, trying to be placating.

"What is _Susie_ doing here?!" Calvin demanded of Jay, rounding angrily on her. She opened her mouth to respond, but her cut her off. "You do know Susie's a _girl_, right?!"

Her mouth snapped shut, and she crossed her arms, heedless of the flour still coating them. Straightening to her full height, she loomed over him, and as he grew aware of her displeasure, it was like she got taller than she really was. "I'll thank you to remember," she said, enunciating each word carefully, "that I'm a girl too."

"Smooth move, Casanova," Hobbes muttered.

"Yeah, but you don't _act_ like one!" he said. "You're all…cool!"

"What, I'm not cool, Calvin?" Susie called from behind Jay. Calvin only laughed derisively.

Jay turned. "Stay out of this for a minute please, okay, Susie?"

"Okay…"

"What do you mean, 'I don't act like a girl'?" she said.

"You don't! You run around with me in the woods, and play _cool_ games with me and Hobbes, and you don't mind getting wet or dirty or anything!" He gestured broadly with his hands. "You climb trees and wade around in streams and like rocks and dinosaurs! Those aren't _girl_ things!"

"But I'm baking cookies right now, aren't I?" she asked. Calvin was oblivious to the edge in her voice, but Hobbes wasn't. He had a bad feeling about this. "Isn't that a _girl_ thing?" She swept a loaf of bread off the counter and brandished it. "Don't I make lunch for you nearly every day?! Isn't _that_ a girl thing?! I'm babysitting right now—isn't _that_ a girl thing?!" Her voice had been rising steadily, as had the color in face, and now she looked downright furious.

"Well—I—but the cool things you do—"

"Don't you mean the _guy_ things, Calvin?" she asked. "The only cool things are the things guys do, right?"

"Well…yeah," he said, as if it were so obvious it didn't even need to be said.

"What—why—ugh!" Her hands fisted, rose, and fell again, helplessly. She turned away, as if she couldn't stand to even look at him. There was a long, silent moment, where Susie stared at Calvin, and Calvin and Hobbes both stared at Jay. "I think you'd better leave now, Calvin," she said finally, in a voice that was calm, but almost too soft to hear.

"What?!"

"Come on, Calvin," Hobbes said. "Let's go; do you want to be here when Susie is too?"

"Of course not!" Calvin exclaimed. He looked at Susie, who'd hopped off her stool and moved solicitously to Jay's side. "Fine." He let Hobbes take him by the shoulder and lead him out of the kitchen. As they left, they heard Susie asking Jaysa if she was all right, but the door closed on any answer she might have given.

"Nice job in there," Hobbes snapped as they trudged back down the walk.

"What did I say that was so wrong?" he demanded. "I gave her a compliment! _Any_ girl should appreciate being told she's like a boy."

Hobbes only shook his head. "You don't know anything, do you?" he asked.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Onoez! Jay's gonna run up to her room and write an emotastic post on her LJ about this, isn't she? (Don't you just love it when authors trivialize the trials of the characters?) 

Thanks to Mayhem Managed (Spiff's my favorite fantasy of Calvin's after any of the dinosaur ones!) and ElfLover (I know you! _–the author states obviously._ I'm glad you liked it!) for reviewing, and thanks to all the silent readers for reading.

As per usual, the next—and last—chapter should be up in a week, and all feedback is welcomed. Let me know what you thought! Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Birdwatcher  
**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A stranger in the woods behind Calvin's house could be a poacher after Hobbes! When they attempt to apprehend the villain, though, they realize they may have misinterpreted the situation…

**Disclaimer:** All of the characters from the original Calvin and Hobbes strip are the creations of Bill Watterson, and are used with the utmost respect (if not permission). The same goes for the brief appearance of Queen lyrics. This was written for fun, not profit.

**Author's Notes:** Here's the last chapter, guys. Enjoy!

* * *

When Calvin's mom went to look for him, she knew immediately where to find him—in his room. He'd been staying inside a lot lately, she knew, reading comics on his bed whenever she evicted him from his spot in front of the television. He rarely took that stuffed tiger of his and roamed in the woods, and she didn't think he'd gone to visit the new girl down the road for days.

He'd been this way for about a week, and she had no idea why. She tried to ask, on the second consecutive day he'd moped around in the house, and had been so vehemently rebuffed that she had no intention of asking again.

That was actually why she was looking for him now. The Robinsons were throwing a barbecue to celebrate being moved in all the way, an official welcome-us-to-the-neighborhood affair. Whatever funk he was in, his mother hoped that the party—or at least the mischief he was sure to cause at it—would be enough to snap him out of it.

She knocked on the door. "Don't come in!" Calvin yelled belligerently. "Hobbes is all ready to pounce if you try!" A pause. "Well, she doesn't know you really aren't! Shush!"

Calvin's mom shook her head, and sighed. "Calvin, you need to get ready. We have to leave for the Robinsons' barbeque."

"I'm not going!" Calvin yelled, predictably.

"That's fine," his mother said. "I've already called Rosalyn—she's willing to come over on short notice!"

There was a panicked yell, and then several minutes of frantic whispers and mutterings. She waited patiently, and it wasn't long before Calvin spoke again…just as she expected.

"If we don't go," he said slowly, "Rosalyn will come and babysit us?"

"That's right."

"…Then Hobbes and I will go.

* * *

Calvin trailed behind his parents, dragging his feet as they walked together towards the noise at the end of the street. Hobbes paced beside him, arms crossed.

"Well?" he said finally, the end of his tail flicking, when it was obvious Calvin didn't intend to say anything.

"'Well' what?" he asked belligerently.

"Are you going to apologize, or what?"

"No," Calvin said stubbornly. "I didn't do anything wrong. Jay was just being touchy. If she wants to ignore me, she can. I'm not selfish like she is."

"No, not like she is at all," Hobbes said, nodding even as he rolled his eyes.

"So you agree with me?"

"No!" Hobbes growled. "Oh, you are impossible!"

"Hmph." Calvin crossed his arms and looked away from the tiger. "At least I'm not selfish," he said stubbornly.

"I'm done trying to help you," Hobbes said. "Either you'll figure this one out on your own, or you won't." They walked in silence, and then Hobbes pointed. "We're here."

"So we are."

Calvin's parents knocked politely on the door, and it swung open. A very tall woman with dark hair and a bright smile greeted them. "Hi," she said.

"Hello, Mrs. Robinson," Calvin's mother said with a matching smile. "We're your neighbors—"

"From down the road, right?" she supplied. "Calvin's parents?"

"Notorious already?" Calvin's dad asked incredulously.

Mrs. Robinson laughed. "My daughter's quite fond of your son," she explained. She gestured them through the door. "Come inside, please," she invited. "And you must be the Calvin I've heard so much about," she said to him as he followed them inside. "And let me guess…Hobbes?"

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Calvin said without much enthusiasm. "Yes, this is Hobbes."

Hobbes smiled and bobbed his head. "A pleasure," he said.

"Hobbes is pleased to meet you too," Calvin relayed.

"Oh, he is just darling," Mrs. Robinson said to his parents, in that tone of voice parents always use that they think their kids can't hear. "Jaysa used to be just like that."

Both of Calvin's parents stared at her in amazement. "Really?" his father asked.

"Oh yes, she toted this stuffed peacock around with her forever," Mrs. Robinson said. "Talked to it and treated it like it was real." She looked down at Calvin again. "Why don't you run along to the backyard, dear?" she asked. "The food's out there, and I think some of the other kids from the neighborhood are here already."

"All right," Calvin said, not bothering to hide the sullenness in his voice. _It's better than Rosalyn_, he told himself, dragging Hobbes out after him.

Calvin's mom turned to Jaysa's. "Your daughter was like our Calvin?" she asked. "Really?"

"Well, not _exactly_ like him," she admitted, laughing again. "Jaysa was always a well-mannered child, but she _did_ carry Freddie around all the time."

"When did she stop?" his mom asked.

"Oh, probably when she was eleven or twelve," her mom said, looking thoughtful. "It was around then that she started the birdwatching, and started dragging around her binoculars instead of her peacock." She shrugged. "One kind of bird for another, I guess!"

Calvin's dad made a small noise of agreement and looked longingly down the short hall and through into the backyard. Calvin's mom was clearly interested in hearing more.

"Don't you think it's strange that…" she started. She trailed off, thinking about what she wanted to say. "Isn't Calvin a little young to be hanging around Jay so much? He comes over here nearly every day."

Mrs. Robinson frowned a little. "To be perfectly honest with you," she said, beginning to walk towards the backdoor, "Jaysa has so much trouble making friends that we're glad she has any at all, even if they're tiger-toting little boys with a penchant for trouble." She pushed open the door. "I don't mean any insult, of course; our daughter has had only good things to say about your son…er."

Something dawned on Calvin's mom. "Until recently?" she asked.

"How did you know?"

She looked across the yard, picking out her son more by the stuffed tiger's head bobbing over his shoulder than by anything else. He was standing alone in the shade of one of the trees. "Calvin's been acting funny lately," she admitted. "I haven't been able to figure out what's wrong."

"Oh, they had a fight," Jay's mom said easily, nodding her head. "Something about him only liking her because she acted more like a boy than a girl—I wasn't able to get many details."

"It's more than I got," Calvin's mom said. "I should have realized it—half the things coming out of Calvin's mouth after he met your daughter were, 'Jay says this,' and, 'Jay says that,' and, 'When Jay makes lunch, she does it _this_ way, so you should too'. Then, about a week ago, nothing."

Mrs. Robinson shrugged. "Jaysa's been quiet, too," she said. "She just sits in her room and reads, or watches the birds through the window. I was hoping the party would draw her out a little…"

Calvin's mom laughed incredulously. "I was hoping it would do the same thing for Calvin!"

"Well, I have an idea," Jay's mom said. "Here, let me introduce you to my husband, and then I'll see if I can find _some_body willing to run inside and fetch out my recalcitrant daughter…"

* * *

Hobbes had disappeared. Calvin had gone to get them a snack, and when he'd returned to the tree they'd claimed, the tiger had been gone. Now, instead of sulking like he'd planned to, he had to go and look for the stripey dope. He'd checked behind all the trees and shrubs, and now was headed for the tables. Maybe the tiger had decided to find a good hiding place closer to the food.

"Calvin, there you are!"

He groaned. It was Jay's mom, and his own was standing just behind her. "Yes?"

"Jaysa hasn't come out of her room yet tonight," she said kindly. "I was wondering if you could go up and get her? She might come down if she knows you're here."

"I really can't—I'm looking for—" Behind Mrs. Robinson, he saw his mother mouth 'Rosalyn', and sighed. "I'd be happy to," he said, as unhappily as he could, and trudged inside.

He knew where the stairs were, even if he'd had yet to be up them. He went up the steps; he could hear loud rock music blasting even before he was halfway up. At the landing at the top, he was surprised to see Hobbes, leaning against one of the doors with his ear pressed against it. "Hobbes?!" The tiger looked up and glared at him. Calvin stormed over to him. "What are you—?"

"What are you _doing_ out here?" Jay demanded, flinging her door open and hopping back as Hobbes fell inside. She bent and helped him sit up, but she was staring at Calvin.

"Your mom sent me to get you," he mumbled.

"Well, you can go back down there and tell her to forget it," she snapped, letting Hobbes go suddenly and retreating into her room. Since she didn't shut the door, Calvin followed her inside, pausing to help Hobbes to his feet again.

All the times he'd been here, and he realized he'd never been inside her room before. He expected all the pictures of birds and dinosaurs, but the posters with pictures of rock stars and blazoned with a weird shield above the word "Queen" surprised him. The music—"_scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?_"—was rather deafening on this side of the door, issuing from a boombox on her dresser.

Jay flopped on her bed, one arm looping around a stuffed peacock and dragging it down with her. "Leemeelone," she growled around the bedspread.

"No," Calvin said, climbing on the bed next to her. "Why are you ignoring me?" He practically had to shout to be heard, and was grateful when Hobbes turned down the music. She lifted her head and looked at him and Hobbes weirdly, before dropping it again.

"I'm ignoring you because you're a jerk," she informed her bedspread.

"I was giving you a compliment!" he protested.

Finally, she sat up, drawing the peacock on to her lap. "A compliment?" she asked. "Calvin, I'm a _girl_. No girl likes being told she's more like a boy than a girl!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Girls like being girls, Calvin—at least, this one does. You like being a boy, right?"

"Of course!"

"Well, how would you feel if I told you I like hanging out with you because you…I don't know, knitted and baked?"

"But I don't!"

"What if you did?"

Calvin paused and thought about it, for a long time. "I guess…I wouldn't like it very much."

"Exactly." She watched him with suspiciously damp eyes. "Calvin, you're one of the best friends I've ever had, but if you're only going to treat me like a boy stuck inside a girl's body…I don't think I can be your friend anymore."

Calvin thought about this for even longer than he had the first thing. He remembered Calvin the dinosaur's dilemma with his prospective packmate, and remembered that he never had come to a conscious decision. But…he must have decided something, because he hadn't stopped hanging out with Jay until this past week—and he'd been miserable every day of it, too.

He looked over at Hobbes, who looked evenly back. "This one's up to you, buddy," Hobbes told him, spreading his hands.

"Can you understand that I'm a girl, Calvin?" Jay pressed.

Calvin nodded, and shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Sure, I understand that. No problem."

She smiled, and reached out, grabbing him in a hug just as strong as any of Hobbes', crushing the peacock between them. "I'm _so_ glad to hear that, Calvin!" she said, a curious hitch to her voice.

"Ack!" Calvin pushed her away. "You might be a girl—deep down somewhere inside—but that doesn't mean you're allowed to indulge in any of that mushy stuff, got it?"

Jay laughed, and released him immediately, holding her hands up. "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist," she said. She grinned at him, and reached out to ruffle his hair, which only annoyed him more. "I solemnly swear to resist the temptation whenever it should arise."

"Good," Calvin said, hopping off the bed and making a show of dusting himself off. "Now come on. If I missed the hamburgers because of you, I might just have to get Hobbes to do something bad to you."

"Hobbes wouldn't hurt me," Jay said smugly. "He likes me. Besides, Freddie-baby could take him."

"Freddie-baby?" Calvin said.

"My peacock," she informed him, stroking the stuffed animal's head. "Freddie Mercury. He's my boy, and he's tough, I warn you." Calvin smothered a laugh in his hand, and saw Hobbes was doing the same. Like a stupid stuffed peacock stood a chance against a real, live tiger.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, setting Freddie aside as he did so, and looked out the window. For a minute, her face darkened. "Stupid party," she muttered. "The songbirds'll be traumatized for weeks!"

"But there's hamburgers," Calvin pointed out.

"Well, I _do_ like hamburgers. Fine; let's go get some before the stupid grownups eat them all." She slid off the bed and gave him a shove. "Come on, little man, get a move on!"

"Hey, no pushing!" Calvin protested, even as he was shoved right on out the door. The sounds of their bickering faded as they paced down the stairs.

Hobbes leaned back against the dresser and sighed. "Boy, I'm glad _that's_ over," he said, letting his head fall back and his shoulders relax.

"Tell me about it. I never thought I'd hear the end of her moping."

He looked up, and grinned. The peacock shook his wings out and stepped off the bed, folding them across his feathered chest as he regarded Hobbes. "You're with the little kid, I assume?" he asked. "This…Hobbes fellow I've heard mentioned?"

"Yes, I'm Hobbes," he said, holding out a paw. The peacock shook.

"I'm Freddie," he said. "Charmed." His head swayed on his long neck. "You want something to eat? Jay's got all kinds of candy squirreled away up here, and _I_ certainly don't feel much like braving the crowds out there."

"I'd be delighted," Hobbes said, pushing the door closed. He crossed to the window and looked for Calvin's yellow head. He and Jay were already at the grill, bugging her dad for food. He smiled to himself.

Things had worked out in the end after all

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And ladies and gentlemen, _there_ it is! The grand finale of "Birdwatcher"! I hope you all enjoyed it. I may revisit these characters again some time in the future, but as of now I don't have any sequels or anything planned. Would you be interested in reading one, if I were to write it?

A million, bazillion thanks to Mayhem Managed, who's been my most consistent reviewer. Yeah, it's over. Sorry?

All feedback is welcomed, as per usual. Let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading, even to those readers who never reviewed!


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